Challenger's Birthday
by Gemini Explorer
Summary: Others plan a party for the resident genius, but M&R's personal quarrel may ruin the occasion. John resorts to a drastic solution that may end his engagement to Marguerite. Assai and Queen Sa'eera bring gifts from Chief Jacoba, and G&F agree to conceive a child.


This story takes place just after "The Golden Rattlesnake". (See that story on this board.) It contains graphic revelations about Finn's past, which may be disturbing to readers who have never thought much about Finn and what her life was probably like before she was rescued by Challenger. It will explain her attraction to the scientist, and how they came to fall in love, in my Fics. None of this was dealt with in the actual TV series, and the series did not posit that Challenger and Finn were romantically involved. This is purely a creative effort on the part of the writer, who sees the potential in that couple to become very precious to one another. In the absence of a Fourth Season, all scribes who create Fics based on this wonderful series will interpret future scenarios as they envision them. This is one man's version of how events might unfold for those living together in Veronica's treehouse.

As ever, thanks to the rights holders of the TV series, "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" for permission to use their characters in fan fiction. All characters not seen on the show are mine.

RATED MATURE: This story is meant to be read only by those who are not embarrassed by intimate scenes between loving adults in romantic relationships. It does not exceed standards for modern literature, and is actually milder than some strong romance novels. However, if nudity, spanking, limited adult language, or revelation of grim conditions that Finn endured in New Amazonia and how they affected her might prove stressful to some readers, this story may not be for them. Be guided accordingly. This is not a children's tale. _**Please read and review. Reviews are the only pay a Fic writer receives!**_

CHAPTER HEADINGS ARE IN PLACE.

"**Challenger's Birthday"**

by Gemini Explorer

Veronica was cleaning up in the kitchen after breakfast when Finn entered and pulled up a chair at the counter. She looked at her "big sister" and asked, "Hey, Vee, have you got time to talk about something? It's pretty important to me."

"Sure, Finn," said the older blonde. "I always have time for you if you think it's important. Want coffee? I'm about to brew some."

" Thanks, Vee. I could use some. Uh, look: do you know what next Thursday is?"

Veronica thought; couldn't think of any holidays, or days designated for maintenance of the Treehouse electric fence or anything involving new planting in the garden. She drew a complete blank.

"I guess it's the day after Wednesday and before Friday," she ventured. "That's how it usually works, anyway. Seriously, Sis, what's special about Thursday?" She added coffee to the pot and poured boiling water through the filter devised by Prof. George Challenger, their resident scientist and creator of household gadgets.

"It's George's birthday," said Finn, who was Challenger's bedmate and lab protégé. "I want to organize a party for him. He deserves it. He does so much for all of us, and I love him more than I can say, even now that he's taught me to read, so I know some really 'big' words." She smiled, to Veronica's amusement.

"How old will George be?" queried the Layton lass, now Ned Malone's virtual spouse. "I know that he's in his 50's, but I don't think I've ever asked his actual age."

"He'll be 54, "Finn responded." But age isn't the issue. The thing is, it's his birthday, and I want it to be special."

"Whoa," said Veronica. "I wasn't being condescending or nosy. I just really wanted to know how old he is. I've wondered, and we need to know how many candles to have for the cake. Shall I bake it, or are you going to want to? I know you're picky about letting others do anything for him if you think you should."

"Thanks, Vee. Uh, would it be okay if I help you, and we both bake? You're better at it than I am, but I want to be able to say that I helped."

"Of course," answered Veronica. "I'll be glad of your company. It's been awhile since we really did something together, and I miss that. Truth be told, I enjoyed it when you used to pester me to turn handsprings and stuff with you. You're so much the sister that I'd have wanted, had I had one. You've grown up a lot since you arrived, and it's time I told you again how much I love you. It will be an honor to help with George's cake. What sort would he like best? You, of all people, should know."

"Yeah. I think a white or yellow pound cake with chocolate icing. He doesn't like cakes with runny stuff between layers or icebox pies, that sort of thing. He's big on wild berry pies, but I think a pound cake is our best bet for a birthday, and everyone else will probably eat it, too." She accepted the cup that Veronica held out to her, and reached for cream and sugar as they sat at the dining table.

"Finn," said Veronica cautiously, "May I ask you something? It's not really any of my business, but I've always wondered...How did you come to fall for George? You're a wonderful couple, although it surprised the rest of us when we realized that you two were more than just teacher and lab protégé. I mean, the age difference...the backgrounds...what got you together? Is this too nosy? If I didn't care so much about both of you, I wouldn't ask. Do you mind sharing? If it's sensitive, I can keep it to myself."

Finn gave her a long, appraising look, then said, "Vee, I probably wouldn't discuss this with anyone else, not even Marguerite, whom I've gotten to know pretty well, since the time that Avery Burton and his goons entertained themselves with our kidnapping. (See the communal Fic, "A Night in the Lost World".) What I'm going to tell you, I've never told anyone else but George, and some of it is stuff that only I know. Promise to keep it to yourself? As my sister?"

Veronica decided that there was probably more here than she'd realized, and that Finn meant what she said. Clearly, she was being honored with Finn's sacred trust, and she nodded. Finally, perhaps she'd learn her best friend's secrets; maybe even hear about some of the demons that she knew haunted Finn at night.

"Well," Finn began. "When I first met George, I, uh, well, to tell the truth, I thought he was an intruder after me. And I was starving; I hadn't had a decent meal for three days, and things had been pretty sketchy for awhile before that. I, uh, robbed him. I stuck my crossbow under his nose and made him give me his pack. Gad, I feel so much like a jerk about that, now."

Veronica saw a tear slip from her eyes, and Finn wiped it away and sipped her coffee before continuing.

"Anyway, to make a long story practically endless, he was really nice about it, and seemed concerned about me. I also know damn well that he looked at me like a man who had just met a woman that he liked. Big deal: I was used to men liking me. I know I'm pretty good-looking. And I know what they want. But there was something really nice about him, if a little naive, and I felt bad about what I'd done, but the bastard who'd betrayed me to the slavers I told you about was after me, and I took off, after holding up Marguerite, too. Then, this guy, Burke, whom I'd sworn to kill, cornered me and I put a bolt from my crossbow into one of his buddies and ran like hell. Believe it or not, George came after me, to help. After I'd just fucking ROBBED him! Marguerite came, too, but she wasn't too thrilled about it.

"We all ran for that time cave thing that George had rigged up, trying to get to London. We met John on the way. I remembered how George had looked at me, and I knew he'd let me come with them, to this place with dinosaurs that he'd talked about, in the past. It seemed loony, but the Roxtons both bore out his story, and as soon as I killed Burke; I needed to scram, fast! You know the rest, basically. We all got back here, and I just acted pushy and relied on what I'd seen in George's eyes, and moved in with the others.

"Things were sort of tense at first, and Marguerite, especially, wasn't too keen on me being here. John was nicer, and I know he felt sorry for me, but both of them just sort of tolerated me. The only one who really liked me was George.

"Well. I was unsure of how I'd fit in and was all alone and feeling it. You know? I thought about making a play for John, but he was clearly too tight wth Marguerite, and they'd both reject me if I did that.

"Challenger was interested in me, mainly as a sort of daughter-companion, whom he wanted to help learn to read and just to get to know. I was kind of resistant at first, but I knew that I'd need to read. All I could read when I got here were warning signs, about biohazards and stuff. He helped me break down long words by syllables. You know how 'together' is really three separate words, 'to get her'? That helped, and I learned the alphabet first, of course. I was kind of a smart mouth about it, but I'd sneak off on my own and study until I could surprise him with what I knew. That got to be fun, and he was so obviously proud of me that I got really interested.

"I knew that he was hot stuff in the scientific community back in England and that he made a good enough living. In fact, he'd probably get rich, once he patented some of his inventions. I, on the other hand, didn't have a high school diploma; hell, I was still learning to just read! I had no connections, no references to help get a job, once we got off this Plateau. I couldn't be a teacher or a governess with my background, and with no diploma, I might not even get a job as a telephone operator or secretary. Like I could even type! I'd probably have to be a waitress, or take some other menial job, if I could get that. I was functionally penniless; the few _cruzeiros_ that I had on me aren't worth anything in this age. Oh, yeah: I didn't even have a birth certificate. That was a totally big deal, too!

"I know I've got the looks to attract men, so I guess I could be a hooker." She glanced at Veronica; to be sure she understood what she meant. "You know what that is? A whore? Well, that didn't appeal to me, either. I'd sort of had to do that three times where I came from, just to eat."

Finn paused, wiped away a tear, sipped her coffee and continued. "You know, I once sold myself to a man for the night, just to get four cans of food? And two of the damned cans were just soup! When I left the next day, I cried for hours. I hated who I was and what I'd had to do.

"I remembered the cries of the suffering and the dying in the shelters from when the disease and the atomic horrors were worst. That was an awful way for a little girl to grow up. Later, I sometimes had friends, but usually only for a loose alliance of a few days or weeks. Then, I was alone again. Not to put too fine a point on it, my life was often miserable.

"Then, I fell in with some people whom I liked, and we hit it off and looked out for one another. We even started to grow our own food, some of it. I began to have a real sense of family. That lasted for about a year, until that creep Burke betrayed us to the bully running New Amazonia. Slavers came, and took those who they didn't kill. Some of us fell trying to fight; we had a few guns and bows, but they were too many and too well armed. They killed those who resisted, and they killed the old and the infirm. The captured men went to the mines and the oil fields, and the prettier women went to the harems of the jerks in power. I heard later that two of my best friends were being pimped out to whoever had the money. I was very lucky to be away when the slavers hit us, and I saw from a distance what was happening. I saw Burke working with the enemy, and I realized that it was him who'd betrayed us. Some of what he did...I'm not going there, not right now. But I swore on the souls of my parents and my dead friends that I'd see him leave for Hell as soon as I could. I kept that promise, as you know." Finn shifted her grasp on her cup and doodled on the tablecloth with a finger.

She looked up. "Vee, please keep this to yourself. I've only skimmed the surface, but you can maybe see why I have nightmares, sometimes. Not as often now as I once did, but George Challenger holds me and comforts me, until I feel better, and the demons leave, and I can sleep again.

"One of my worst recent nightmares was when I dreamed that he had left me, and I was all alone again. He was very gentle and very kind, telling me that he wasn't leaving me, ever. He even apologized again for leaving Marguerite and me alone when Burton got us. He's told me time and again not to fret about how I met him, being a bandit.

"So, anyway, I'm a woman, right? I have biological instincts, survival drives, like other broads. In times like these, we need a man, even more than in the future. Here's this big, strong guy who likes me, and he has social standing and a good income, and it also hit me that it was cool that he's got one of the finest minds of all time, probably. And, he digs little blonde me, the orphan from the future, the girl who's done what she had to, to stay alive. I needed a champion, in case anyone else tried to get the others to throw me out of the Treehouse. So, I seduced George.

"I know that some of you, mainly Ned, have muttered things about him 'robbing the cradle'. Hey, don't say anything! I HEARD Ned griping about that last year. Anyway, the truth is that the 'cradle' was really eager to be robbed! I seduced HIM the first few times, and I had a tough go of it. He was so virtuous, and so insistent that I be sure what I wanted before we did anything but hug, that I wondered if I'd ever get him inside me.

"Finally, one night in the lab, I got a couple of drinks down him and did a silly striptease, and started fooling around, and he took me there, on the couch. One thing led to another, and we eventually moved in with each other.

"By then, you were back, of course, and I was really thrilled to know you, and to have a 'sister'! And I was more confident of myself around the Roxtons, who I knew even more by then were truly meant for one another. But I still needed a man, for security after we got off the Plateau, and just for emotional comfort.

"One morning, I woke up next to this big fellow who had been father, mentor, teacher, confessor, lover, to me, and I felt sort of rosy all over, and I wondered what was going on. Then, it penetrated my thick blonde skull that I was crazy in love with him! Gad, I thought my heart would over-rev, it was beating so hard! I started to cry, and he woke up and held me and coaxed it all out of me, and I told him that I loved him so badly that it freaking SCARED me!

"He chuckled, and told me that he knew, and that he felt the same way, and was trying to find a way to tell me. That's when he told me for the first time that the Sun rose and set on me, on crummy little orphan, refugee, me! I told him that he had that backward; that the Sun really rose and set on him! That's when we started that banter about which of us it rose on. It was fun. Then, in Xochilenque, we had that serious talk, and agreed that the Sun rises and sets on us as a couple. I loved the way he said that, about how the two of us were celestially blessed. It's cheesy, I guess, but my heart just sang when he said that!

"So, now, Veronica, you know how I set my sights on one of the most brilliant scientists of all time, and how he captured my heart while I was trying to insinuate myself into his good graces, so that he'd look after me. Well, he HAS looked after me, and I mean to return the favor! I love George so much that I just about bawl whenever I think about how lucky I am to have him. He's so kind, and so strong...he even looks pretty handsome, now that I'm cutting his hair and trimming that scraggy beard. Can you see why I love him?"

Veronica wiped away tears of her own and reached out to Finn, the women standing and embracing as Finn cried unashamed into her friend's shoulder.

Finally, they parted, and Veronica, her voice a bit husky, said, "Honey, I think we need fresh coffee. Sit down and I'll get it. Then, we need to do some serious party planning!"

Veronica poured, and the girls put their heads together, Finn taking notes on a tablet with a fountain pen fueled with substitute ink devised by Challenger from jungle dyes.

She listed the sort of cake, and then they tried to think of a theme for the party. They decided on Jungle Love, and the girls giggled as they discussed wearing their Zanga outfits.

"The problem is," said Veronica, "that I know that the men won't dress up. They're too stuffy. But they'll enjoy seeing us in those loincloths and sarongs, so they'll be in a festive mood.

"We'll gather some pineapples and oranges as well as have the cake and coffee, and we can make punch. We can invite Assai and Sa'eera, too. They like George, and they love parties. They come here enough that they're about half white, anyway, especially Sa'eera, of course. They'll understand the occasion." (Queen Sa'eera's father had been an American member of Veronica's parents' expedition. She was now the youngest of Chief Jacoba's six wives, her brown hair colored what Jacoba called 'the color of the sun's rays' by Challenger's hair dye.)

"Oh, look: here comes John!" She motioned the hunter over to the table and quietly told him what they were planning.

"Hmpf," he mused. "What can I give Challenger that he can't invent on his own? I guess I'll make him a new leather sheath for his favorite Bowie knife. Finn, can you measure it carefully, including the blade thickness and length? I'll sew a pocket for a small hone onto the sheath, so that he'll always have a means of sharpening the blade. I'm sure that Marguerite will have clever ideas for other gifts. Finn, what are you giving him?"

"Not sure, "said the black- clad beauty."I know him so well that I have trouble deciding just what he'd like best. One thing I'm doing is wearing the ocelot fur loincloth that Vee made for me, like the one she had to wear in Xochilenque. (See the Fic, "The Crystal Skull".) But that's for later, in our own room. Quit blushing, Johnny: you know how guys like to see girls dressed like that!" she teased.

Veronica looked at Roxton, and stifled a laugh. He was indeed embarrassed, and she knew that Finn had told him this intimate detail just to discomfit him.

"Well," she managed, "Getting back to party plans, talk to Marguerite and have her check with us, please, John. We need to confer on gifts, so that no one comes up with duplicates. And we need to plan a show, of sorts. We'll sing, 'Happy Birthday', and some other songs that George likes. Let's make a list to choose from. We can play some dance music on the gramophone."

They talked awhile longer, and then each went his or her way. Finn was pleased that she would have help in setting up the festivities. She had had so few opportunities for gaiety in her old life that she really needed Marguerite and Veronica to help her with such matters. It felt wonderful to have friends who cared enough about both her and her man to pitch in and create an event they'd all remember with fondness in months to come.

She tried to recall how to make ice cream, but was sure that Ned Malone would know. That would go well with the cake and fruit...She remembered him making ice cream before, telling anyone who'd listen that George Washington, the Father of Ned's country, had been fond of ice cream.

Finn rounded up Ned and extracted a promise from him to make ice cream. It was well that she asked in advance, for some of the ingredients would have to be assembled ahead of time. Fortunately, Challenger's electric refrigerator would keep cream cool, and the freezing compartment would produce ice. Rock salt was available, and Malone had already told Challenger what else he needed, and the scientist had made a machine to manufacture the delectable dessert almost a year before. They often used it during the warmer months, in particular. Ned loved cranking the handle, it reminding him of lazy summer days at his uncle's home in upstate New York. A world away now...

Ned said he would have no problem making ice cream, but wondered what gift he might provide.

Finn thought, then suggested that he think about sparing one of his remaining blank journals, as they were well bound, the paper was of fine quality, and Challenger needed a journal to record his own version of events on the Plateau and note his major experiments. Ned was pleased at the thought, saying that it was indeed an inspired idea.

"But, what are you giving him? " he wondered. "You know George better than any of us. I should HOPE you would! I have no intention of getting to know the Great Man as well as you do in certain areas!" He smiled to reassure her that he was joking.

Finn laughed dutifully, but admitted that she was stumped for the moment. "I do know him so very well," she admitted, "but that may be my handicap in choosing a gift. I think of too many things, and yet nothing. I don't want to make anything like that ceramic heart that I gave him for Christmas. I want something different; something he'd use, but what?"

"Oh, you'll think of something," Malone promised her. "You're really smart...for a woman!" He laughed and dodged a pillow from the couch that she tossed at him. But she wasn't really mad as she retrieved the pillow and put it back where it belonged, glad that Veronica hadn't seen her take liberties with the household furniture. She reflected that Ned was a good friend, really, and more relaxed and less stiff now that he and Veronica were officially together. He was even coaching Finn in creative writing, for she wanted to write about this place, herself, if they ever left the Plateau. She was also keeping notes about what they did when anything significant happened, and sometimes read these back to Challenger days later, bringing a smile to his face when he remembered some funny event that she had logged, or roused a feeling of accomplishment when she cited a recent success in the lab when he'd had a frustrating day there.

Whatever else they did in the privacy of their room, and they certainly did things there that would shock the average conservative couple of this time, Finn cherished the talks they had before they turned out the lights at night. She knew that George also loved those moments, when they got closest to one another. Maybe that would give her a clue. In the meantime, she was glad that Ned could make the ice cream, a weakness of Finn's as well as of George's. She was impressed that George Washington had liked that dessert treat. Well, so did "her" George!

Finn walked out onto the veranda where she caught up to Marguerite, staring into the distance.

She told her the story of George's impending birthday, and Marguerite shrugged.

"I suppose that a birthday party is a good idea," she conceded, "for some people. It's not something that I grew up having very often. I got to where I detested the idea of having a birthday, wondering whether anyone would notice, or might do anything more than tease me for not having anyone to do much about it. When I had parties, it was just a duty on the part of the school staff."

"Well, la-de-dah, Marguerite," snapped Finn. "You think I had marvelous parties every year, myself? Anyway, this isn't about us. It's about George."

"Ah, yes: the man whom you love," ribbed Marguerite. "I must say, Nicole, you are perfect for one another: a mutual admiration society, you and George Challenger. It baffled me for awhile, but I suppose that given your background, you were desperate for affection, and he liked what he saw. Most men would; you're rather easy on the male eye, I'm sure, even if you do have fairly small breasts." She used Finn's real name, Nicole, to hammer the barb deeper.

Finn narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath before replying.

"I don't know what's bothering you, Marguerite, but George and I have saved your miserable hide on occasion, and we did it out of love for you and because you're one of us. He deserves better from you. That man has made life better for all of us. You sure don't mind using his cosmetics and synthetic fabrics, or getting a cold drink or fresh food from the refrigerator he created. The least you can do is to come to his birthday party and offer some effort at a gift. Remember, bitch: your own birthday is in just a couple of months. Maybe somebody would do more for it if you cared more about others. This Treehouse isn't the stuffy private school where you were raised, and we aren't the staff there. We're your family, after a fashion, or as much of one as you or I are ever going to get!"

Marguerite rounded on her friend with thinned lips and a flushed face. "Finn, sweetie, perhaps you're right: I should do something. Why don't I have Roxton and Malone build a nice little brick chapel for you and Challenger, like we did for your precious Crystal Skull, so you could keep it safe and pick its noggin for extrasensory bingeldy-bob? Yes, that sounds about right...a little chapel where you can go to worship Professor Challenger. You do worship him, you know. And, I guess it's bloody mutual. The brilliant, if aging, scientist, and his cute post adolescent blonde bimbo! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do!" And she flounced off, red-faced and angry. (NOTE: The fic, "The Crystal Skull" is being prepared for posting here in late June of 2013. It tells how the Challengers came to possess a mysterious crystal skull that they indeed housed in a brick structure outside the Treehouse, as Marguerite noted.)

But Finn thought she saw a tear begin to flow from Marguerite's eye as the older woman stalked past.

Finn thought what would be best to do next. She felt sure that something was bothering Marguerite, and that it wasn't Challenger's birthday. As mean as Marguerite had just been, Finn felt sorry for her, and she knew that such sarcastic outbursts were rare with the brunette beauty these days. Not that whatever it was justified her snapping at Finn or disrespecting George...

She remembered that Roxton had seemed a little detached when they'd spoken earlier. Very likely, he knew what was on Marguerite's mind. Goodness knows, she had been giving him enough of her mind, for several days now, often in front of the others. They, too, had been on the receiving end of some of her outbursts.

Finn went looking for the hunter and found him talking to Challenger in the lab.

"Hey, Johnny!" she greeted him. "We need fresh meat today. What's in the refrigerator is on its last legs. Want to hunt? George, can you spare me for a few hours?"

Challenger looked mildly surprised, but responded, "Certainly, Darling. You and John go hunt. I can handle the work here, and the others will be home if I need assistance. John, I think the fresh air and experiencing the thrill of the hunt will do wonders for you. We can talk again later, if it will help."

Roxton thought briefly, and then nodded. "Finn, I'll meet you at the elevator in ten minutes. You need to arm yourself and change shoes, anyway." He looked down at her feet, wearing the sandals that she preferred for comfort in the Treehouse.

Finn went to her room and pulled on boots; loaded her Smith & Wesson revolver and buckled on her gun belt with the spare ammunition for the .38 that had replaced her improvised crossbow. She adjusted the sheath for the Bowie knife that Roxton had made for her just before the past Christmas, and draped a bandolier of 6.5mm cartridges over her chest, and got her Mannlicher-Schoenauer rifle from the closet, with her Zeiss 8X30 binocular, formerly the property of a slaver who no longer needed Earthly goods. She remembered how he had fallen to Marguerite's .275 Rigby and thought again of her friend, and what might be troubling her.

Finn stopped off in the kitchen to fill her canteen and told Veronica where she was going. The other blonde told her to try to kill an iguana or some game birds, that she wanted an alternative to red meat.

At the elevator, she found Roxton in place, adjusting his hat, his .318 Westley Richards rifle slung on his left shoulder. They descended, exited the electric fence that guarded their home's perimeter, and entered the jungle, working their way toward the river to the north of the Treehouse.

Finn glanced back just before they passed into cover, and saw Marguerite on the balcony, watching them as they disappeared into the primeval forest.

A mile ahead - for they tried not to hunt too close to home, lest it make game wary or scarce when they might need a quick kill - Roxton and Finn moved among the trees, setting out snares for birds. Quail-like birds frequented the area, or they might hope for pheasants. Recently, they had seen ocellated turkeys, possibly having been brought south from Mexico or Central America by the Tecamaya Indians, and now breeding on the Plateau. But these were too large for their fine snares.

Having set the snares, they retired to sit above a game trail used by tapir, peccary/javelina, and deer. Sometimes, duck-billed dinosaurs also trod this path, headed down to the shallow lake below. One of those hadrosaurs or trachodons, though, would be too much meat to transport. And leaving the kill out in the open while they butchered it as best they could would bring raptors or larger carnosaurs...not a cheerful prospect.

Finn shrugged off her day pack and offered Roxton a sandwich. She took another, and propped her Mannlicher on a log, ready to lift it silently and with minimal motion, if they heard or saw game.

"John, may I ask something personal?" she queried. "Normally, I wouldn't inquire into what passes between you and Marguerite, but she sort of bit my head off this morning when I mentioned George's birthday. Is something eating at her? Is it anything I said or did?"

Roxton pulled a face. "Finn, is this why you got me out here? To pump me about Marguerite?"

"Sure, Johnny", she admitted, trying to smile enough to offset his pique. "We broads are known for being subtle, right? I couldn't just ask outright: that would be unfemale, not conniving and full of intrigue. Seriously, she's my friend, or usually is, and if she's upset enough to snap at me like she did, I figure she's got a real burr under her saddle. Look, is this anything at all that I can help with? If I've done something, please tell me, so I can make amends. If it's just between you, okay, I'll butt out, unless I can arbitrate or something. I hate seeing you two unhappy. You're almost like my brother, and I hate seeing you suffer. Is this what you were talking to George about?"

"Yes. I was asking George's opinion about something. Normally, I handle Marguerite all by myself. This time, we had a quarrel. The details don't matter, but she seems to be escalating matters, for no good reason. It's like she's pushing, just to see how much I'll put up with, and I don't know what to do, except to walk away and hope she'll cool off." He was clearly troubled, and Finn's heart went out to him.

They talked more, and Finn had a growing suspicion of why Marguerite was behaving as she was.

"John, this is a big secret that women probably shouldn't share, but I think most girls like to test their men, to see how much you guys will take off of us. I don't do it to George, because I'm terrified that he would just think I was being childish, or that he might withdraw from me instead of getting mad and putting me in my place. But I think Marguerite is mad because you won't call her on it and let her know her limits, now that she has had to admit, even to herself, that you're her man. Uh, have you ever spanked her when she gets this way?" She blushed, embarrassed at the way she found herself speaking.

Roxton looked irritated and a bit shocked. "No, of course not," he spoke. "I'm not the sort of man who hits women. Not that they don't deserve it, at times, I know. But I love Marguerite! I can't see walloping her. Look, are you going to eat that pickle?' He glanced at the object of his desire.

"No, go for it." She passed him the dill pickle from her lunch. "John, I can't read her mind, but if this keeps up, put her over your knee. In private, of course. She has too much pride for you to do it in front of the rest of us. That would REALLY set her off! Do it just between you two, though, and she knows that you've set her limit, and that she deserves what she gets. Knowing her, I think it might help."

"I see," he muttered, looking at her askance. "And, this is how Challenger keeps YOU in line?" He raised an eyebrow in skeptical challenge.

'No, " she admitted, "But if I ever got that far out of line, I'd want him to. The trouble with George is, he's so reserved and gentlemanly that he might just withdraw from me if he saw me acting like a brat. Besides, if he let it be known that he thought I'd disappointed him and was being childish, I'd just die of shame. I couldn't keep pushing. I love him too much to hurt him. But, Marguerite isn't me, and you're more the _macho_ man whose buttons a girl would like to push, to get a reaction. I think she wants you to call her hand. That's my take on this, and I know her pretty well."

Roxton chewed thoughtfully, and washed down the bite with water from his canteen. "You're quite serious, Nicole? If I smack her and it backfires on me, maybe I should paddle your butt, too. Not that I would; Challenger would resent the intrusion on his territory."

Finn colored. "Look, I see your point. If it backfires, just wait until we're off alone together, and I'll go over your lap, and you can take it out on me, and George won't find out. I'd deserve it for steering you wrong." She giggled. "Anyway, I bet a lot of girls would like to be spanked by Lord Roxton! Maybe I should hope it DOES backfire!" She stuck out her tongue playfully, and Roxton laughed in spite of himself. Finn was irrepressible, and always managed to lift his spirits when he was troubled. It crossed his mind that she might be serious, in which case, if he did spank her, Challenger wasn't the only one who'd better not find out. Marguerite would really erupt if she learned that he'd spanked Finn. How very amusing that she would be jealous over that, but she would, and it would cross the line between Finn and him being just friends and make them man and woman, with potential erotic overtones. He blushed furiously, thinking of how it would feel to have the slim blonde girl squirming on his lap, both of them trying to pretend that she was just paying off on her bet.

They talked more, and then changed the subject, falling into familiar hunting discussion and safer banter of the sort they usually enjoyed when alone.

After an hour, he held up a hand for silence, and they both heard furtive movements along the trail below. In a moment, an agouti emerged from the jungle, and Finn broke its neck with a shot from her 6.5mm rifle. She was proud of the shot, which runed no meat.

They recovered the kill, and moved away to field dress it, in case anything big and hungry came to investigate the sound of her shot and the death yelp from the big rodent.

After, they checked their snares, and found they'd trapped a rabbit and one jungle fowl hen. Roxton killed these animals with his knife, to save ammunition and noise, and they returned to the Treehouse, before the afternoon sun could spoil their meat.

As they waited for the elevator to descend, Roxton looked seriously at Finn and asked if she was sure about how to deal with Marguerite.

"John, she's weird sometimes. There's no guarantee of anything, but Dr. Finn, girl shrink, thinks you should see if that would help. You can probably tell how she's reacting by the time you get her over your lap and her skirt up. If you see she's really mad, just cancel the experiment, blame it on me, and tell her to get whatever it is that's bugging her out in the open, or you're moving back into your old room until she deigns to fill you in on what the Hell she expects. But tell that bitch that if she ruins George's birthday, I'll...pull her hair, or something."

She looked embarrassed, angry, and miserable, and Roxton reached over and hugged her. "Thanks, Finn. I'll let you know what happens. I feel better already, just knowing that you care. And one thing that Marguerite IS going to do is to apologize for what she said to hurt you this morning. I can throw a pretty good snit, myself, if pressed, and she's not getting away with talking like that to my best buddy, as Ned would say. "

And Finn felt a warm glow offset her pain. Roxton was a wonderful man, and a very dear friend. How dare Marguerite jerk him around the way she did?! Sometimes, that woman just didn't deserve the things that came her way...

CHAPTER TWO

The elevator arrived, and they stepped in, trying to avoid letting blood from the harvest of the hunt drip onto the wooden floor. That's all I'd need, mused Finn. Marguerite was trouble enough, without Veronica taking them to task for staining the elevator floor.

The elevator opened, and Roxton and Finn stepped out, to find the others assembled to greet them.

Veronica huffed a bit, as if put out, and then relieved that they were all right, went off toward the kitchen.

"Well, John, it's about time you got back," mocked Marguerite. "We had about decided that you two were dinner for a tyrannosaur. Who killed the animals, you or the Girl Guide, your faithful hunting companion?"

"That's like a Girl Scout, only British," explained Malone to Finn, who had never heard of either Guide or Scout.

Roxton looked coldly at Marguerite for a moment, and she stared back before dropping her eyes in embarrassment. Damn, she thought. I meant to make amends, and I've done it again. Some days, I shouldn't be allowed out in public without being gagged...

"Ned," said Roxton, "will you please take the game and help Finn skin and prepare it out back? I need an urgent word with Marguerite. Please?"

Ned nodded, aware that the tension between these two had built over the past four days, troubling everyone in the Treehouse.

Roxton pulled his love aside, so that only she could hear the words he all but hissed between tight, angry lips. "Marguerite, I have HAD it with your temper and sarcasm. Get up to our room this minute and get your skirt off and wait for me to come up and spank you, after which you WILL apologize to me and to Finn and the others for what they've endured from you over the last week. MOVE! I'll be up as soon as I clean up from the hunt and have a cup of tea to let me calm down some."

"What if I don't?" she retorted.

"Then, Madam, you get upstairs, anyway, and start packing my things so I can move back into my old room for at least a few weeks while we decide if this relationship has any future, or ever really did! Do I make myself clear?",he snarled, wanting her to realize that he wasn't bluffing.

Marguerite was shaken to her core. She looked into his eyes, and thought, Oh, hell! I may have really crossed the line this time. Why do I DO this? Aloud, she spoke, "John? You're scaring me! Are you serious? You're thinking of LEAVING me?!"

"If you're lucky, thinking is all I'll do. That's why I want tea, while I get hold of myself before we decide this. But I swear that I am indeed serious. Absolutely serious. Do you fully comprehend that? I am a patient man, Marguerite, and have been for years, but there has to come a time when I put my foot down, and tonight is it. Now, get upstairs and either wait for punishment or start packing my things."

Marguerite flushed scarlet, half in anger, half in fear and shock. "You're not getting away from me this easily, Roxton," she declared. "You'll find me meekly awaiting your pleasure. "

Then, pleadingly: "John? Please wait a moment. I want you to know that I'm sorry I mouthed off when you got home. I was really trying to make a joke. I'd already seen the error of my ways, and I was trying to defuse what I've done the last couple of days. It just came out wrong. Can you try to believe that? Please?" She managed to stop just short of wringing her hands in despair. That would be too much for her dignity.

"I'll try, Marguerite, but I'm not convinced, and you're not getting off, this time. I meant just what I said."

"In that case," she submitted, "I suppose that I'd better get myself up to OUR room and wait for my man. Your OLD room is getting by just fine without an occupant." And she turned and flounced off, her movements tight and angry.

Veronica was half expecting Roxton, and had begun boiling water for tea.

She sat him down next to Challenger, who had also felt the desire for a cup of fine, high grown Ceylon tea from their dwindling stock, and the men talked as Veronica readied the tea.

Everyone avoided mentioning Marguerite and the others told Roxton that they were glad that he had found game. Challenger awkwardly told about some experiments he had going in the lab, and Roxton tried to breathe deeply and compose himself.

After he had drunk his tea, he rose to go, and Veronica pulled him close and hugged him. She ran her hands over his broad shoulders, feeling the stress in him, and whispered, "Try to be as kind to her as you can, John. She needs to have limits, but you love that woman. Remember, she's all right in small doses, and she's gotten a lot better in the last year. Don't sever what's between you if you don't have to. She IS one of us, claws and all." She kissed him on the cheek and smiled encouragingly.

He nodded; embarrassed that everyone clearly knew that he and Marguerite were having trouble and that he had given her an ultimatum. Such matters were better kept between a man and his wife, not inflicted on their friends. Hmpf! Wife...well, if things didn't go totally awry tonight, he might marry her yet...

CHAPTER THREE

Roxton went up and opened the door to their room, to find Marguerite sitting demurely in a chair near the wall, by the veranda exit, where he would see her as soon as the door opened. Her skirt was folded neatly on another chair, her boots alongside. She looked at him directly, then lost her nerve, and cast her eyes down. She held one of his trousers belts, wringing it anxiously in her hands.

She stood, offering him the belt. "I wasn't sure if you'd want this, or be content to spank me with your hand. I suppose I deserve whatever you decide. Oh, John! I am SO sorry! I don't know why I get this way every so often. I'm trying to do better. It has been a long time since my last tantrum hasn't it? The leopardess is really trying to change her spots, Kipling forgive me for mangling his allegory...At times like this, I'm glad that we live far enough from the river that the rest of you here haven't built a ducking stool for the household scold!" (NOTE: The reader unfamiliar with the ducking stool is encouraged to Search for information on that device and the custom of its use.)

He regarded her grimly, and she saw that he was determined, and not in the mood for her attempt to make him laugh. I'm for it, I guess, she thought. Well, I asked for it this time...

"All right, let's get on with it, shall we?" she chirped. "How do you want me? Bending and holding my ankles, or over your knee?" She tried to sound nonchalant, but her heart was really racing as she anticipated the next few minutes, excited and yet somewhat fearful of what he might do to her.

Roxton didn't answer, just taking her by the left wrist in a grip so strong that it startled her, reminding her of just how powerful this man she loved really was. He propelled her across the ten feet to the foot of the bed so rapidly and firmly that she found herself almost breathless as he sat on the corner of the bed and pulled her effortlessly over his lap. He switched his grasp from her left arm to her right, pulling it behind her and locking it at the small of her back, her loins across his, her thighs now trapped between his own legs, to preclude her kicking effectively.

"Johnnn...," she stammered, now really afraid, remembering how heatedly she had said certain things to him, often in the presence of others, holding him up to public humiliation. Slapping him yesterday, when others had seen, was really over the top, even for her! He had looked so shocked, and so hurt, before he turned away...

"Shut up, Marguerite," he snapped. "The time for talking is past, at least for now! Cross your ankles. I'm not telling you but once."

She immediately snapped her ankles across one another, holding them tightly crossed.

He fumbled under her lavender blouse, pulling the tail up as high as he could before slipping her matching hand - sewn panties down below her shapely hips. He said tightly, "Marguerite, this is going to hurt you more than it will me. I hope!"

She pressed her crossed ankles together, and raised her bottom, making it clear from her lack of resistance that she was in full submission. Her arm hurt where he pulled her wrist high behind her back, and she wanted him to understand that he need take no further action to compel her compliance.

He raised his right arm - she felt the motion and recognized it for what it meant - and in seconds, his hand began the admonishment that she had half hoped, half feared, she might provoke when he reached the end of his patience with her sarcasm.

Fifteen times, his hand slapped her exposed flesh, and she was left in no doubt that he was angry. Still, she realized, even as his blows fell, that he refrained from using his full strength. Even angry, Roxton was a gentleman, and he couldn't prevent his love for this woman holding back the full force of his rage.

"Is that enough?" he demanded. "I have some anger left, if you think you think you need to feel it, to be sure how upset I am. See?" And he spanked her five more blows, monitoring the hue of her buttocks to be sure that they didn't go from pink to bright red. He wanted her to hurt, but not BE hurt...

Marguerite had begun to cry after the fifth blow, in spite of her determination to remain Miss Cool, brassing out this humbling episode while remaining in at least some control of the situation. Now, she wailed and pleaded for forgiveness, and she meant it, for she had indeed been angry with herself for the things she had felt compelled to say to him and others these past days. Why, oh, why, do I do this to myself and to those who do their best to love me? she demanded of herself.

Finally, the spanking ceased, although her arm and her legs remained firmly clamped in his power. She held her left arm down, the fingers bracing her against the rug, frightened to move without permission. She thrilled to what had happened, but was shocked at how rapidly and how strongly he had acted when he made his move, and she felt very female in the position in which she was held. She thought of trying to arouse him, but realized that this was punishment from an angry man, not role playing between happy lovers. But it nonetheless left her breathless and excited, pleased in spite of herself that she had roused her mate to action.

She wanted a gentle, loving Roxton, but admitted to herself that she wanted a man firm enough with her to set limits that she trembled to cross, letting them both know that he was man, and she was woman. And that he would prove it, if pressed hard enough! She was horrified to feel a flush of passion and triumph flash through her veins. I guess I succeeded in getting what I pretended to myself I didn't want, she realized.

"John?" she asked. "May I please move? I want to be pulled up a couple of inches higher on your lap before you finish spanking; I'm slipping a little. My left fingers are tired."

He shifted her forward a few inches, pulling her left arm behind her, holding both wrists in his left hand while delivering several more blows.

"Tell me the truth, Marguerite," he demanded. "Is this enough, or do you think you may be tempted to run your mouth to me again soon, let alone insult our friends and embarrass me in the process? That belt you offered is right here on the bed if you want to stand and bend."

She hastily assured him that she felt fully admonished, and asked for permission to uncross her ankles. "If that's all right with you, I mean," she added. "You still have my wrists and I swear to you that I won't struggle or otherwise move without permission." She was crying, and as angry as he was, Roxton's heart went out to her.

He released her wrists, helped her to stand, and waited as she adjusted her panties. He led her to the desk in the corner. "Sit there, he ordered," and write a letter of apology to Finn, while I watch." He crossed his arms and stood menacingly by her as she reached for a pen and complied.

When she passed him the letter, beautifully written in her exquisite handwriting, he told her to address it to Finn, but to let him read it before she sealed the envelope. She did, referring to her as Nicole Elizabeth Finnegan-Challenger. The young blonde would appreciate that touch, she hoped. Certainly, it was a name that she aspired to bear in real life one day.

She handed Roxton the note, and his anger melted as he read it. He lifted her and held her against him, pulling her face to his, kissing her for as long as he dared, lest he let this turn into passion, tainting the basic theme of her being punished, not stimulated for other purposes. He had not meant to kiss her, but something in him said to, and he did.

"I hope that you're fully satisfied with my punishment," she grumbled. "My bum is going to sting for an hour." She rubbed the affected area.

Seeing the look on his face, she added, "Well, maybe I did deserve it, a little." Roxton lifted an eyebrow, and she amended, "Oh, all right! I had it coming!. I'll promise you one thing, John. When you do something, you do it thoroughly. At least, it beats you leaving me. Do you know what that would do to me? The only man to have ever captured my heart, to break through my reserve and make me care about him so much that it frightens me?" She realized that she was unable to prevent a tear slipping from her right eye and drizzling down her face. And it struck her heavily to realize what she had just admitted, leaving her soul open to him, words that she could not take back, and knew that she should have uttered long before.

He reached out tenderly, dabbing the tear away with his handkerchief. "Thank you for saying that," he half whispered. "I needed to hear it from you. Sometimes, I wonder how much you do care. I find myself daring to hope that it may be half as much as I care about you, if that is possible. You have no idea what it did to me, the way that you acted these past few days, proving a point, or whatever the hell you thought you were doing, to my dismay and that of all our friends. I love you, but I must have my self respect and that of our companions. And, especially, your respect. Without that, our union is hollow and cannot last. With it, and your love, we are invincible. Do you understand, really, Marguerite?"

"Yes, John," she said, "I've learned my lesson, in spades. When I stepped out of line this time, I really put my foot more deeply in the mud than I'd meant to. Things just sort of snowballed when you didn't call my hand on it sooner. Believe me; I HAVE learned from this, and in the long run, I will probably thank you for putting me in my place. Maybe in a few weeks, after my backside stops stinging and my ego allows it." She smiled, wanly. "But, what about this letter to Finn?"

"You are going to take that downstairs tonight and read it to her in front of anyone else who may be present, and then you will give it to her to keep, reminding both of you that your conduct toward her of late has been unwarranted." He knew what this would do to her pride, and hoped that she wouldn't rebel and ruin what he thought he had so far accomplished. Marguerite was very vain...

She nodded, embarrassed but contrite. "All right, John. But I'm putting on my skirt first, I'm already humiliated as much as I can stand for one night, and I don't suppose that you really want the other men seeing my charms, such as they may be, on public display."

He agreed. "Certainly, dress. Your pleasing posterior has already been seen by everyone in this Treehouse at least a time or two, thanks to Avery Burton, that Tecamaya king, and the times that you and the other girls go skinny-dipping in the river. But in the main, I like to think of your derriere as being for my private viewing pleasure." (Roxton referred to Cuauhtémoc XIV, Emperor or First Speaker of the warlike Tecamaya tribe in, "The Crystal Skull" and to Burton taking Finn and Marguerite in, "A Night in the Lost World." Both Fics are now on this board.)

She was mildly surprised that he had mentioned the swims she took with the other women. "You think I shouldn't swim nude with Veronica and Finn? You've never complained before. I thought the idea actually rather excited you, when you pictured us in the river."

"No, I don't mind, "he admitted."They may, though, if they're like most women. Aren't they a mite jealous of your perfection, of your butt and all over?"

Marguerite blushed. "In case you hadn't noticed, Veronica and Finn are quite attractive, themselves. We all look at one another, and size up the competition, but so far, neither of them has had anything nasty to say. They've even been kind enough to compliment me in a few areas." She grimaced. "And that makes me feel even lower about how I've treated them this week. I'd better get dressed and get this over with. I hope they can find it in their hearts to overlook my behavior. I guess I was rather difficult to bear."

She pulled on the skirt and adjusted it and stepped into sandals, the women seldom bothering with boots in the Treehouse. Walking to the mirror, she brushed her hair and freshened her makeup.

She looked shyly at Roxton and asked how she looked, and when he approved, asked whether he'd come with her.

He nodded. "I'll help you ride this out, Darling," he said, "But you will have limits. Remember that, and if you feel tempted to go on another jag of Margueritism, we'll deal with the problem before you start digging holes with our friends that we might not be able to get out of."

"We?" She looked at him, wanting to be sure that he meant that he would stand by her, if she accepted his limits.

"We. I wasn't looking forward very much to moving back into my old room, truth be told. But you need to understand that if you hadn't agreed to that spanking, I would be back by myself tonight. I wasn't bluffing, even if I was tearing out my own heart when I said that. Got it?"

She nodded, and then turned to him in shock. "Oh, Lord, John! What if they tell me that I'm not welcome at George's party next week? Oh, what have I DONE!?" And she nearly cried.

He held her, telling her that if she had to miss the party, he would miss it, too, beyond perhaps putting in a token appearance to honor George. "What you did embarrassed me, too, because you're mine. I want everyone to know that I'm standing alongside you in this apology, and that we're still together, in every way. You are my woman, and you'd better not forget it, Marguerite. Whether I see fit to punish you, or support you in front of our friends when you have to swallow bitter medicine, I want it understood that we belong to one another."

She felt almost lightheaded and stood against him and whispered into his ear. "Yes, John. I AM yours. I gave myself to you completely when I finally said that I was your woman. Thank you for keeping me, warts and all. Someday, I WILL be safe to trust completely in polite company. Next time I mess up, don't wait so many days to take me in hand. I don't want to EVER have to fear that you'll throw me back, like an apple in which you found a worm. Between us, we'll get all the worms out of my soul, and I'm going to be the best apple that you ever ate. I swear, I'll be worth the effort."

"Apples..." he snorted."Marguerite, that's a pretty tart fruit. You're lucky that ripe apples are my favorite snack. Now, Lady Roxton, follow me. We're going down to make amends, if your victims will let us. Either way, what happens, happens to both of us."

"Yes, John," she murmured. And, holding the ivory envelope with Finn's letter in it, she took his hand and told him with her eyes to lead her wherever he thought she needed to go. For that was where she wanted to be, with all her heart and soul...with Lord John Roxton beside her.

CHAPTER FOUR

As it turned out, making amends was much easier than she had feared. Everyone seemed eager to get this sordid episode behind them, and readily accepted her verbal apologies, explaining that she had a dark element within her that got loose periodically and caused her to say things that she quickly regretted. She knew that all resented what she had done, but they seemed willing to move on, some more grudgingly than others. Finn and Malone had been jabbed the hardest, except for Roxton, and everyone had seen and heard much of what she had done in his case.

Marguerite stood before Finn and offered her the letter, explaining that her man had ordered her to write it, but that she meant every contrite word in it, and would have said the same things, even had she not been told to do so.

Finn raised a hand to quiet her, took out her Swiss Army knife and slit the flap of the envelope. She read the handwriting rapidly, and demanded, "Marguerite, are you telling me the truth about this; you DO mean it all?"

"Yes," said the other woman. "Finn, I swear I mean it, to the last syllable. You are one of my best friends, or were. I just can't keep my damned mouth shut sometimes. It wasn't really you I was mad at, anyway, as you've probably gathered by now."

Finn looked at Roxton and said, "John, I've already read this. Having her repeat it in front of everyone is just going to add injury where insult has already caused enough pain. It was me she wronged. Please excuse her, and let's put this whole thing behind us. Do you mind? I do see that you feel a responsibility to me, but as far as I'm concerned, you filled it when she wrote this and gave it to me."

He nodded. "That would probably be best. I was very angry, and I may have gone overboard. If you feel that amends enough have been made, Marguerite is excused from further embarrassment."

Veronica came in and announced dinner, and everyone brightened, except for Marguerite, who took her hostess aside and whispered that she felt totally ashamed for her behavior over the past days, and wouldn't ask to eat with the others, lest the awkwardness of the situation impair their enjoyment of dinner.

Veronica looked her carefully in the eye, and took Marguerite's hand. "You can take a tray upstairs if you insist, Marguerite. But this is my home and my table, and you have apologized to me and to Ned and to the others whom you hurt, and you were and are my friend. We have been through far too much together for me to want to prolong the shame that you must be feeling. If you do go upstairs, I will honestly miss you tonight. If you really want to make amends, eat with us, and just help me serve. But do whatever you feel most comfortable with."

"You really don't mind if I stay?" asked the brunette in a subdued tone. "John, you decide. I don't want to take you away from the table if you want to be with the others. I can just go up by myself."

Roxton thanked Veronica, and said that he would prefer to stay, if Marguerite would join them. "But I'm eating wherever Marguerite is tonight. Now, of all times, I want to be with her."

Marguerite smiled shyly, and told Roxton to find them seating, and asked Veronica what help she needed in serving. Malone also came into the kitchen, and they began loading plates and taking them out to the dining table.

Matters were certainly looking better, but Marguerite knew that she still needed to get Finn alone, and explain that she understood if she wasn't welcome at Challenger's birthday party next week. Some wounds might be too grievous to heal in the time available, and she knew that Finn must have told George what she'd said. Finn probably told him everything. They were like that. Maybe someday, I won't feel compelled to have secrets from John, she hoped. I'm much better than I used to be. And, I'm going to get a lot better! But Finn, I'll never be. I need SOME things in reserve, known only to myself. I always will, even when I can control my outbursts. That's just me. Come to think of it, that's MOST women!

She picked up the bread tray and headed for the table, determined to pretend that everything was normal, as much as she could.

Dinner went well, and when Veronica and Finn went back to the kitchen for Vee to refill Malone's plate and Finn to recharge her cup and get George some pie, the younger girl took Veronica excitedly by the arm and whispered, "Did you see John and Marguerite holding hands under the table?! And, she buttered a slice of bread for him!" She was aglow, smiling delightedly.

Veronica smiled, herself, and reminded her best pal that she also did these things for her love. "I've seen you, Finn. You wait on that man, hand and foot. If ever a man was spoiled by his wench, it's George Challenger!" She suppressed a laugh, lest Finn take offense.

"Yeah, Vee, but that's George and me. Like, we have the romance of the century, if not of all time. But Marguerite has been so independent until lately, and for her to do that for John now, means they must have really made up after what she's pulled the last couple of days. I really think there's hope for those two, yet!" She was clearly thrilled over her friends' reunion.

Veronica was also very happy, if a good deal more reserved in her enthusiasm. She had seen too many squalls between that couple to think that only smooth sailing was now going to be the case, although Marguerite had been steadily improving for over a year, and did seem sincerely anguished when her temper slipped.

"What do you think John did tonight to defuse her?" she wondered. "Whatever it was, she's like a different woman than she was earlier today."

"I, uh, sort of told John to spank her, and he did. I listened outside their door when I went up to the restroom earlier. I couldn't help it, and I wanted to be sure they didn't get too far out of hand." Finn looked sheepish.

Veronica whooped, and then brought her laughter to a lower pitch until she got herself under control. "Nicole! You didn't! I wish I could have seen that! Marguerite must have been beside herself with shame and embarrassment. Well, she sure had it coming. If I ever get like that, you tell Ned the same thing you told John. But I don't think I'll ever need it. Someone has to be the mommy around here, and I sometimes feel like it's me...I don't see myself getting that far out of line. Does Marguerite know? That you told him to take her over his knee? "And she started laughing again.

"Gosh, no, Vee! Marguerite is my friend, and I want her to stay one. She just has those nasty attitude lapses, sometimes. Keep this between us, Sis, okay?"

"Right," said Veronica. "Mum's the word. But, Finn? You did us all a favor, especially the Roxtons, I bet. Gotta go. Ned's looking this way. He probably thinks the rest of his dinner is getting cold while we gossip in here."

Veronica went back to the table as Finn began slicing pie and Marguerite chose that moment to enter the kitchen.

"Finn," she began, "I apologize again for the insult on the veranda. I know how rude I've been recently, and I want you to know that I understand if you don't want me at George's party next week. You told him, didn't you? What I said about you two? You tell him everything!" She was blushing, and Finn noticed that her eyes were downcast.

"Nope, Marguerite, I only tell George 95% of things. And you're a large part of the 5% that he doesn't hear about, girl!" She stuck out her tongue, and Marguerite smiled faintly.

Finn continued, "M., listen: all he knows is that you smarted off to me today because you were mad at John. I glossed over how mean you were. You can definitely come to the party, and no one will object, least of all, me. Or, George! In fact, if you don't show up for his party, he'll be hurt, and you'll have me to answer to. Got that, girlfriend? Two PM next Thursday. Be there, or wish you were! I gotta get George's pie to him. We'll talk later. I promise. By the way, I saw you butter that bread for John and holding his hand. That is SO cool! I love it when you two get along!" She beamed at Marguerite, and was gone.

Marguerite stood still, stunned. Then, she began to smile, and a glow suffused her features. "I, of all creatures, don't deserve these people and the way they forgive me," she thought. "Even John, especially him, has shown me more love and tolerance than I ever dreamed that anyone would. My bum still burns a little, but when we get back up to our room tonight, I'm going to thank him for blistering it. On the other hand, I was sure that I was going to be about as welcome at that party as ants. Now, I have to think of gifts. What on Earth am I going to give George?"

In the midnight hour...

Challenger and his love lay in bed, spent from their romantic exertions of the past hour. They had shut off the light, each first checking their revolvers on the nightstands on each side of the bed. Loaded, clean, and ready...The alarm had been set for seven AM, and they were having a quiet discussion before drifting off to sleep. Finn loved these times, when they were alone and could speak in their most relaxed fashion. Sometimes, George would discuss things here that it might be more difficult to get him to discourse on during the day, especially if he was preoccupied or busy.

"Genius, I have a question," she inquired. "Veronica and I were thinking of asking you for some of that iridium stash to make jewelry from. We thought maybe we could cast bracelets, rings, that sort of thing and engrave them, and trade them to the Zanga or make jewelry for ourselves. Would it be a good metal for that, or is it radioactive, or anything?"

"It isn't radioactive, but it is poisonous," he answered. "Moreover, it is one of the hardest of metals, probably THE hardest, with attendant brittleness. It would be very hard to work, and objects made from it would likely break easily, if dropped. No, I think you girls would be better served with other alloys. Perhaps I can think of something that would appeal to the Zanga, and be less troublesome and hazardous. Copper, for one. We know where to find that, and they are not over selective about the metal, so long as the object is pretty. Copper can also be polished, and I'll devise a compound for that, if you like. You could sell them the copper amulets, or whatever, and then charge to keep them polished." He chuckled. "It seems rather heartless: I 'm glad that I am a scientist, not a businessman. Of course, we could sell them little containers of the polish, as a compromise..."

Damn, she thought, there goes that idea. No birthday ring made of iridium...

"Okay," she said. "I'll talk to Vee and we'll maybe go that route." She snuggled back next to him, his front along her back, the way she especially liked.

It was quiet, and Challenger realized that he heard faint noises from the next room. He listened carefully, a hand cocked by his ear. Yes, there was a sort of squeaking sound. But one couldn't very well oil bedsprings!

"Darling, listen," he ordered. "Do you hear anything through the wall? A squeaking, and sort of muffled voices? Maybe the Roxtons are still agitated, and having trouble sleeping. I hope they don't toss and turn all night."

Finn listened, and then chuckled. "Genius," she said, "that IS the Roxtons, but they aren't still mad. I distinctly heard Marguerite moan, the way she does when she gets all passionate. Those bedsprings are getting a workout, but not because they're restless. I think they're making up for being mad at each other the last few days. Lots of lovers do that when they're done quarreling. They 'make out' to 'make up'." She snickered.

"It would seem easier to just go at it without having quarreled in the first place, " he reflected. "We have sensational sex, but never get more than even mildly testy with one another!"

"True," she replied, "but we're special people, George. Ours is the affair of the century, if not for all time. Most lovers are more temperamental, or just dumber than we are. Anyway, most women aren't like me: they manipulate and hassle their men. I'd be too afraid that I'd hurt or disappoint you if I did that. Gad, I'd just want to die or crawl under a rock if I did to you some of the things that I've seen and heard other women do to their men. But then, you're a very special man, so you deserve a very special woman. That's me, Baby: your very special woman. I hope..." She looked back at his face in the darkness, just able to see his expression.

He smiled, and stroked her hair, and let his fingers slide down the side of her neck, the way he knew would cause a tingle to flow through her whole body and she shuddered in response.

They hugged, and he kissed her shoulder. "Thank you, Finn. And you are indeed a very special woman. Your price is above rubies, or for that matter, that of iridium, which is some $500 an ounce. {2006 values: 1923 value not known.} But I'm more likely to associate you with gold, like the color of your hair, and of your heart. I see gold as a warm color."

Then, he stiffened. "Wait a minute, Finn, if we can hear the Roxtons through that wall, that means that a half hour ago, they..." He was horrified.

"Yes, Genius, they may have heard us, and probably not for the first time. But you have to really listen, and we don't usually get that loud, except for when I really squealed tonight when you, well, you know..." She blushed, just thinking of what he had done to her then, and how good it had felt. The things that man of hers could do with his tongue...!

"Hmpf," he muttered. "Perhaps I should devise some sort of insulation that we could fit between the walls."

"Let it go, Lover. Usually, neither couple hears the other, I'm sure. I don't hear them too often, and I have really good hearing. What the Hell? We both know the others 'do it', too. And they know that we do. It's just not discussed. Hey! I forgot to tell you! Do you know that he spanked her tonight? At my suggestion? But, keep that between us. Veronica is the only other one who knows, besides John and me, of course. But Marguerite had it coming. I think that's what broke her mean spell. I love it when they get along. I sure don't mind barely hearing bedsprings squeak instead of hearing her when she's mad."

Challenger thought, and then she heard his soft laugh. "It was probably good advice that you gave John. I thought that perhaps you went hunting so you could talk to him. He listens to you more than anyone else, I think, except for me, and what you told him was likely best heard from another woman. Hmmm. I shall have to remember that, in case you get out of line. The trouble is, you ENJOY being spanked!" He laughed aloud.

"Genius, you don't need to spank me in anger, which would be different from what we do when you paddle me. All it would take is a really dirty look from you to make me cringe and beg for forgiveness. George, you are absolutely the luckiest man on Earth in your choice of a bedmate. You know that? Fortunately, you deserve me, you lucky guy. Tired? I'm zonked. Just hold me for a while as I wind down, and I'm out of it till tomorrow." She reached back and ran a hand down his leg.

"It has been a long day, Sweetheart. But I do want you to know that I appreciate you. You were probably joking, but I am in fact the luckiest man on Earth, to have you." He kissed her neck.

"Ummm," she murmured. "'Night, Genius. I love you."

Just before sleep took her, Finn thought, Hell: no iridium ring! Well, I have plenty of gold and silver from my share of what we looted in Xochilenque. I know that Vee can cast a gold ring, and we'll figure out some details to make it special. My man is still getting a ring for his birthday, plus whatever else my feeble blonde brain can come up with...

In the distance, a jaguar rumbled, but in the Treehouse, only a sleepy Veronica heard it, and barely. She stirred enough to pull a light blanket higher on Ned's bare shoulder and then, she too, slept.

The next day, Veronica and Finn worked in the garden, and Finn eased her friend into a discussion about making jewelry.

It turned out that Veronica could indeed cast rings via the "lost wax" molding method thought to date to ancient Egypt, and when Finn suggested combining silver inlays in a gold ring with some inscriptions, her companion was interested.

"This should be a worthwhile challenge, Finn," she conceded, and the girls began planning the details of the ring.

Veronica also told Finn that she had decided what to give George, but wouldn't say what or why she'd selected that item.

They were proud of the spinach crop, and planted pinto beans, something they'd not tried from the missing Prof. Summerlee's seed supplies. Zucchini squash was also new, and they had high hopes for it.

Marguerite watched them from behind a fern in a pot on the edge of the veranda above. She paid special attention to Finn's figure as she moved, noting the length of her arms and body. Satisfied, she made a few notes on a small pad, smiling now as she schemed.

Finished, she went down a flight of stairs, taking tea to Challenger in the lab. He was grateful to see her, and the brunette struck up a conversation with the scientist, who was bored, waiting on two experiments to chemically interact to the point that he could tell if his goal would be successful. Marguerite studied him intently, being caught when he turned abruptly. Being all woman and wise, she immediately ran her eyes admiringly down him and told him that he seemed to be staying in fine shape, and how lucky Finn was to have a man so well built.

Affected by male vanity, Challenger accepted her explanation as admiration, and his not inconsiderable ego made that an easy assumption.

After half an hour, Marguerite exited the lab, taking the tea things back to the kitchen, where she looked around carefully before taking out her pad and making additional notes.

"Right," she thought, "I've got that pair sized up accurately enough for my plan. I can't wait to see their faces when they realize what I've done."

Roxton came by, asking if she'd join him in a hunt for brocket deer or iguana, as the previous day's hunt hadn't produced any great surplus of meat.

"What?" she teased. "No Girl Guide trekking the jungle with you today, John? Aren't you afraid that I may get you off by ourselves and try to take advantage of your innocence?"

"I certainly hope so, Marguerite. Finn is a wonderful companion, but there are times that only you'll do. And, I don't mean when I want help skinning an iguana." He gave her That Look, the one that always caused her to catch her breath, and started her heart racing, and made her weak in the knees.

She kissed him and they strolled hand-in-hand into the kitchen, where Ned Malone helped them to pack a picnic lunch as well as other essentials for their hunt. He noted the signals passing between them and reminded them to remember to shoot some game, whatever else they had planned.

They rode down in the elevator, Marguerite thinking to herself that this should be a nice break. She would resume her project involving the Challengers later. But, I'm not about to forget it, she promised herself. They really deserve what I have in mind, and I intend to be sure they get it!

Veronica and Finn came up, and Finn walked off to see George in the lab. Veronica went to the big signal drum and began beating an invitation to Assai and Sa'eera to attend Challenger's party, explaining what was involved, and the time. The more the merrier, within reason, she thought.

She looked up and saw the Roxtons crossing a meadow two hundred yards away and thought how nice it was to have them back to normal.

Finally, Thursday came. Challenger was somewhat self-concious about turning 55, but Finn told him before they went down to breakfast that he wasn't getting older; he was getting better.

He chuckled, "At least, you lie convincingly, my dear, and you're kind about it."

"No sweat, Genius," she replied. "I still love you." She rose on her toes and kissed him, and they strolled down the stairs, Finn being glad that the staircase was wide enough for them to go hand-in-hand.

The others drifted down, and Veronica and Finn scrambled eggs for everyone, except that Marguerite told them to fry Roxton's eggs over easy. "I want to see if he gets any egg on his shirt, and if you scramble them, there's no challenge for him in that regard," she explained. "Anyway, I like to watch him play with his breakfast, trying to wipe up all the egg with his toast."

"She's easily amused," Roxton told everyone. They smiled or grimaced, depending on their mood. The Roxtons' frequent banter was a never ending source of entertainment, better some days than others...

Several casually wished Challenger a happy birthday, and he graciously acknowledged their greetings, being half glad that no one was making a big deal of it, and half disappointed that they weren't. He was most surprised that Finn was so quiet, although she had told him that she had a special gift for him later.

They cleaned up after breakfast, and the Roxtons and Finn went hunting, taking along fishing tackle in case they didn't sight game in a reasonable time. Some days, they hunted in the morning and again in the evening before making a kill, and a few days, they came home empty-handed. Usually, knowing where to be (and when) produced at least some meat, and a kill of any size lasted the whole "family" for several days. It also used less ammunition, although Finn was sometimes now using her sling and a bow, Veronica and Roxton coaching her in the use of the latter. Her old crossbow wasn't powerful enough for hunting larger animals or for shots at any real distance.

Veronica had been surprised to learn that Roxton was so adept with that ancient weapon, but he reminded her of the supremacy that skilled use of the longbow had given English armies at Crecy and Agincourt. He explained that since boyhood, he had enjoyed keeping alive the legend of those archers from his nation's past. He had, in fact, killed deer in Britain and various game in Africa with the bow, and enjoyed the added difficulty in hunting, although he normally preferred rifles. He told the others about the legend of Robin Hood, intriguing the Anglo-Brazilian girls. Marguerite of course knew the story, being English.

Challenger was muddling around in the lab after lunch, with nothing urgent in mind but routine tasks. He had revised his formula for the pseudo-satin material that the girls used for garments, including lingerie, and felt certain that the new version would be even smoother textured, and feel wonderful to the touch. He set those notes aside, and began working on a model for an improved water filtration device.

He looked up as Finn entered the lab, carrying his good tweed jacket and a nicer shirt than the one he was wearing. She had changed from her usual black outfit, and was wearing a short white sundress and sandals. Gold loop earrings dangled from her lobes, and she wore a golden pendant from the Tecamaya treasure taken in Xochilenque. She was radiant, and Challenger wondered briefly if there was a finer sight to be seen on or off the Plateau this afternoon.

"I trust that the hunt went well?" he asked.

"Sure, Genius, we got two deer and a peccary," she replied. "But that's taken care of. See these things?" She brandished his clothes. "Time to change, George. The birthday man is expected upstairs for his party in ten minutes!" She grinned.

"What party?" he exclaimed. "No one said anything about a party. What are you saying, Finn?" He looked a bit bewildered, but pleased, she thought.

"George, my man, you are the guest of honor for the social event of the week," she teased. "We wanted to surprise you, and I see we did. Didn't you wonder why Assai and Sa'eera showed up last night with those wrapped packages? They're your gifts from the Zanga, and we have others from those of us here in the Treehouse. Pound cake suit you? Vee helped me make it, with chocolate icing. Okay, I helped HER make it, but it looks good. Now, get changed and try to look surprised when we go up and everyone yells, 'Happy Birthday'! Here, give me that shirt, and get this one on. You need to look 'hot' for your party." She leaned up and kissed him, beaming her happiness.

He laughed. "Great Caesar's ghost! You hid this well, Darling. I don't know quite what to say, except that the only gift I need is looking at you in that dress. You are indeed the very essence of beauty and charm. Finn, is this why you cut my hair yesterday, a week sooner than usual?" He shook his head in wonder and not a little in pleasure.

"That's it, Lover," she admitted. "If the coat is too warm, take it off when we get settled upstairs, But I want them to see you wear it for awhile; you look so distinguished in it."

And, so it came to pass that the couple walked into the main room of the Treehouse, and Challenger heard all exclaim, "Happy Birthday, George!" Finn dropped his hand and began clapping, and he thought she probably applauded the loudest of any of them.

Punch was served, and Challenger was congratulated for getting through another year, and encouraged to reflect on birthdays past. Good humor flowed, and Veronica put a waltz on the Victrola.

Finn asked George for the first dance, before he found an excuse to doff his jacket, and they led the others to the floor, where Challenger proved surprisingly adept. Finn had obviously been coached by Roxton and Marguerite, and was already a skilled dancer if one counted rock and roll and the Middle Eastern dances that Marguerite taught th other girls.

He twirled her adroitly, and loved the shine of her eyes as she looked at her hero. Challenger felt ten feet tall, and whispered that into Finn's ear. Her grin grew even wider, and they finished the dance still in one another's arms as they strolled back to the table. The other couples also relished one anothers' company, and were clearly glad for the festive occasion.

As Sa'eera and Assai were without their husbands, Roxton and Ned Malone were prevailed on to dance with them, the Zanga girls having seen enough to cope rather well, with minimal coaching. Both were certainly also adept at their tribe's sensual dances.

Finn and Veronica had decided to scrap the idea of Zanga costumes in favor of sundresses, Veronica having chosen a yellow dress with a short, full skirt. But the Zanga visitors wore their traditional dress, and removed their sarongs for the dancing. They were both erotic and exotic, observed Roxton, earning him a nudge in the ribs from Marguerite. But she smiled as she elbowed him...

Cake and coffee were served, and all enjoyed lively conversation.

The candles on the cake were five blue, one for each decade of his life, and five white, one for each year beyond fifty. Challenger made the traditional secret wish, and succeeded in blowing out all of the candles on the first try. Malone jibed that he'd always thought that George was "a blowhard."

That phase finished, all steered Challenger toward a stack of presents, and watched to see which he'd open first.

After a brief speech of gratitude, he looked to see which package was from who, and said that he had better begin with Finn's gift, "if I know what's good for me."The quip drew the expected laughter, and Finn blushed, but looked pleased.

He took out his pocketknife and attacked the wrapping. Within, he found a carefully crafted small wooden box. By now genuinely curious, he lifted the lid and found a gold ring with an emerald stone, with a carefully detailed gold "G" in Old English script in the center of the emerald. On each side of the stone was a silver inlay with the date and "1923". A deep groove ran around the entire ring, filled with silver inlay. The effect was impressive, but elegant, not at all vulgar. And, the present fit perfectly on his ring finger, which Finn had measured with string while he slept. (His wedding ring had reposed in his dresser since he had begun sleeping with Finn.)

"I had to ask Vee to help with that, but the idea was mine, " Finn explained. "Happy Birthday, Genius!"

He told her that he was made humble by her thoughtfulness, and took her in his arms, the others sighing at the tenderness of the scene, as the couple seemed to momentarily forget that others were present. Finally, Finn broke off the kiss, blushing furiously as she looked sheepishly at her friends. They teased the couple lightly, but began applauding spontaneously, and both Challenger and Finn glowed.

"Well, " said Veronica, "lets open another gift." She handed Challenger a large package wrapped in deep blue cloth with a green ribbon.

"Careful, George", razzed Roxton. "Marguerite baked that; don't drop it on your toe." But he was joshing: the weight and shape made it clear that this was not baked goods, although it was indeed from Marguerite.

George folded the flaps of the wrapping aside and revealed a light cardboard box. This contained, in turn, three shirts, handsewn of the best grade of cloth available from the loom in the Treehouse.

Challenger shook them out, holding up each for all to see. The first was khaki, with olive epaulettes sewn on the shoulders as a fashion touch. It was long-sleeved, and had buttons of turtle shell. He exclaimed with pleasure and held it up to his shoulders. Obviously, Marguerite had gotten his size right...

Another shirt was cobalt blue, with polished stegosaur spinal plates for the button material. Of course, even a small plate would furnish many buttons, of a fine, translucent color, with varying tones of gray, amber, and veined black. Challenger exclaimed in awe at the shirt color, made with a dye that was rare and costly in the Zanga village. All sighed, and Malone and Veronica both said how beautiful the shirt was.

"I seem to have a spare of this magnificent color, as well," said the birthday celebrant. He shook out the other shirt, and was puzzled to find it much smaller than the other. He was momentarily miffed. Was this some insult or game on Marguerite's part? He looked at her, trying to appear confused rather than injured.

"See if that one might fit your lab partner," Marguerite suggested. And, sure enough, when Finn tried it on over her sundress, the fit was almost perfect!

"I thought that you two share so much that His and Her shirts might be in order," Marguerite explained. "You can wear them anywhere, or as sleep shirts, I suppose. Anyway, Happy Birthday, George, and many more such to come!"

George and Finn looked at one another and smiled with pleasure and a little embarrassment. They thanked Marguerite profusely, for both the gifts and the thought.

"It was the least I could do," she replied. "and you two know me: I usually do the least that I can get away with!"

Everyone laughed or smiled, according to temperament, and Marguerite blushed with self consciousness and joy that her offerings had been so well received. Finn even walked over and hugged her.

"I'm making a round with the pitcher of punch", announced Veronica. "Who needs a refill?"

Everyone held out his or her cup, and imbibed of the punch, which was basically lemonade with other fruit juices.

"Okay, "said Ned, "Open something else, George."

What's left?" the scientist replied, and Marguerite passed him Ned's gift.

This turned out to be one of his blank journals, and Challenger thanked him for this resource, so easily replaced in London, so hard to win on this remote Plateau, where true paper was at a premium. In fact, one of Challenger's goals was to find a suitable replacement for paper.

Next up was Roxton's fine leather knife sheath. Challenger sent Finn up to their room for the Joseph Rodgers -made Bowie it was meant to hold, and it fit slightly tight, but this would soon be remedied, as the leather stretched slightly in use. There was a pocket sewn on the front, with a flap, like the sheaths that W.D. Randall of Orlando, Florida would make famous decades later. This pouch held a hone, and Challenger took it out and looked at it.

"This is real Novaculite?" he asked, and Roxton nodded. They had discovered a source for this natural abrasive stone, perhaps the only one in the world outside of Arkansas in the United States.

"It's the grit the Yanks call a Soft Arkansas," the hunter explained. "It will produce a good edge, all you need unless you want the best razor edge, which we don't need, outside of surgical instruments, I expect. I do have some Hard Arkansas grit here in the Treehouse if you want to hone for that effect, but in the field, that Soft Arkansas is the best compromise. I ran the grinding wheel to shape that piece of rock to fit the pocket on the sheath. That's why I was so secretive when you came by the wheel the day before yesterday, and why I was wearing that mask to avoid inhaling anything that might hurt my lungs."

Finally, it was time to see what their hostess had given. She had been quite evasive about this, and had no gift on the table. "I'll be right back," she offered, and went up to her room, with Finn in tow.

The girls came down with two shrouded pictures and folding wooden stands.

As they set up the displays, Veronica explained that the oil-based paint was still damp, and said that the works couldn't be framed for several more days. "But, you can see them now. Okay, Finn: let's uncover them!"

They did, and all gasped in awe at Veronica's skill. She had painted one portrait of Challenger in tweed jacket, seated with his arm on a table, a faceted crystal glass of whiskey at his elbow, and a pleasant smile on his face. She had added a background of elegant, dark wooden wall, as if he was seated at his den in England, and the effect was impressive. He was in a tall burgundy leather chair, adding to the warmth of the setting.

The second painting showed him seated in the Treehouse, in the very chair which he now occupied, his favorite in the living room. Finn was on his lap in her usual black outfit, minus her boots. Her arm was draped around his shoulder, and one of his hands held her waist. Their faces were tranquil, Challenger's smile and Finn's face and their eyes showing clearly the affection between them. It was a work of sheer genius, painted by an artist who clearly knew these people and their expressions intimately.

All stared at both paintings and Challenger spoke with deep conviction when he told Veronica how real the depictions were, and thanked her profoundly.

"I'm just speechless, Vee," admitted Finn. "I didn't know that you were doing that one of George and me together. I feel almost as if I'm seeing myself in a mirror. Thanks so much. You have no idea how much this means to us. Right, Genius?"

Challenger enthusiastically agreed, and everyone came over to ooh and aaah at the masterful brush strokes and the subtle way that the artist had portrayed the couple and managed the lighting.

The paintings were set aside in a remote corner of the room to dry, and all had another slice of cake - Veronica and Finn had baked three cakes - and coffee was made for those who had had enough fruit punch.

"Now," said Assai, "We Zanga women offer you some items which we hope will prove pleasing." And Sa'eera and she brought out their gifts.

First, they unveiled a rich cloak that was made of cloth overlaid with the colorful feathers of a dozen species of birds, including the great Hyacinth Macaw, which was sacred to the Zanga, and the feathers of which were allowed only to chiefs and to powerful medicine men.

Assai explained that this was the gift of Royal Jacoba, himself, and that such a gift to anyone outside the tribe was unknown in their collective memory. He sent it with warm wishes and a reminder that his two blonde wives would soon need more of Challenger's hair dye...

Xma'Klee sent greetings and a note that he was sad that official duties detained him, as he had to attend a ceremony that he could not avoid, as Paramount Shaman of All the Zanga. But, he sent a gift that he hoped might please Challenger.

This was a spear with the pinkish-purple wooden shaft permitted only to Zanga royalty and to very distinguished warriors. The head was not steel, but gold, inlaid with silver. The workmanship was the best that the Zanga culture could produce, and this gift drew sighs of appreciation, especially from the men. Even the ladies were taken with the obvious value and the skilled craftsmanship. (Note: this gift idea was inspired by the shafts of such wood used by Zulu chiefs in South Africa, and called "pink ivory" by those custom knifemakers there who now offer it.)

There was another gift, a golden locket with a jade overlay of the tribal symbol for fertility. Sa'eera explained that George should have Finn wear this for two weeks, beginning at the time of the next full moon, and that she would surely conceive if their hearts were pure and the gods favored them having children at this time.

This produced chuckles among the whites and even the two Zanga girls, who knew well that their Treehouse friends were trying to avoid pregnancy for the moment. The girls were all taking Challenger's birth control pills, which had so far proven fully effective.

"Tell Xma'Klee that if my man decrees that I should bear his child, I will wear this locket faithfully," said Finn, trying to keep a straight face. Everyone smiled or giggled self consciously, depending on their sex, and the group decided to move on to Assai and Sa'eera's personal gifts.

Each had brought a pendant of gold with emerald and diamond decorations and had also given him a decorated bow and fine leather quiver with raptor hide overlay and twelve arrows. There was also a mortar and pestle affair, in which George could crush plants or tablets and make medicines.

He set all the gifts aside, save for a bow, which Roxton helped him to string and he drew this to see how it felt, and commented that he had always wanted to practice archery, which he had not done since university days.

With the gifts set aside on a table and the portraits safely out of the way, they played more music on the gramophone and the couples danced again.

Finally, all were growing tired, it was time to begin cooking dinner, and they decided to end the celebration.

They did this by singing, "Happy Birthday", of course, and then, "God Save the King", and "Land of Hope and Glory", the last a patriotic favorite of Challenger's.

They broke up into groups, with the ladies and Malone beginning dinner and Finn, Challenger, and Roxton going down into the yard and setting up a target while Challenger tried the Zanga bows against an English longbow made by Roxton. He had been delighted to find a wood very similar to English yew growing there, and made his bows of that.

Finn tried to draw the bows and was embarrassed to find that she lacked the strength. "I guess I'd better stay close to you if we have to protect ourselves with bows, Muscles," she quipped, hugging George. Her own bows had about half the draw weight of these, and used shorter arrows.

Finally, dinner was served and all ate heartily and happily. After, they had coffee and pie, during which Finn perched on George's lap in spite of Marguerite's ribbing her about Challenger "having been turned into a chair" over the past year, then they danced again, and talked for an hour as they cleaned up.

Upstairs, in the privacy of their room, the Challengers made intense, prolonged love, lying at last quietly in one another's' arms. These were times that Finn especially treasured, and when they often had their best talks of the day.

After they had covered other issues, George teased Finn about the fertility necklace. She went quiet, obviously in deep thought.

Finally, she said, "George? In about a week, I'll finish my current cycle on the Pill. Do you want me to stop taking it and wear that locket? If I don't get pregnant, we can at least tell Xma'Klee to stop pestering us about it." And it was true that the shaman often made pointed remarks about the Treehouse women being barren, wondering if some enemy had placed a curse on them.

He thought and replied, "Darling, we have discussed this before, and we have always postponed the matter. But we can't do that forever; I am getting no younger, and I want to enjoy at least some of my children's' lives, should we become parents. If you feel that the time is right, I will place that locket around your neck, and we will see if that savage knows what he's talking about!" He chuckled, thinking that Xma'Klee was probably quite sincere in his native beliefs.

"Suits me, Genius," she answered, "but I don't think we should rely on the locket alone. I think you need to keep screwing me." She snickered. "That's always fun, but I think you need to fire for effect this time, Lover."

He feigned outrage. "Young woman, I'll have you know that I always 'fire for effect', which is why you can't resist my attentions! That's why I invented such a potent anti-pregnancy pill. But. I'll make an extra effort in the weeks ahead." Then, quietly, "Finn, are you sure? If we become pregnant, it will pose an added burden in this wilderness, but I think that between us, we Treehouse friends can deal with it, and Jacoba will surely make a midwife available to you as your delivery approaches. Still, giving birth is always a risk, and I could not bear to lose you."

"I want to go for it, George," she said. 'I've thought a lot about this, and I want to try to give you a son. Let's do it." And she squeezed his hand.

He nodded, and they talked more, then turned off the light and drifted toward sleep, hands running over one another's' bodies in affection, another delight that Finn treasured and looked forward to, especially on special nights such as this.

"Happy Birthday, Genius," she mumbled, already half asleep.

"It has indeed been among my happiest, Darling," he responded, hugging her briefly. When she slept, he lay awake awhile longer, thinking of the enormous responsibility that they were about to incur, half hoping that she would not conceive; half terrified that she wouldn't. May God grant us His mercy and give us the fortitude to deal with the matter, whichever way it turns out, he decided. On this note, he allowed himself to sleep, first reaching out to Finn and stroking her hair lightly, then kissing her sleeping cheek. His last waking thought was that he was a fortunate man, to have such wonderful friends and such a splendid woman to share his life. If Fate decreed that he become a father, he would do his best, and a child might be an added blessing at his next party. If the Plateau allowed him to live another year, that was something to look forward to...

The End


End file.
